


it starts like this

by magpie_fngrl



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 22:31:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2126934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magpie_fngrl/pseuds/magpie_fngrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The night has been kind; he is not so sure about the day."</p>
            </blockquote>





	it starts like this

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed.

In the dark of the night you can pretend you are someone else.

It starts like this: two boys lying next to each other, one on a mattress, the other on the floor, not quite awake, not quite asleep.

It is in those moments when sleep dulls the brain, when the subconscious opens like a flower stretching yearning petals to the sun that something grows between them, alive and heaving. It is the attraction you never speak of because words cannot contain it.

One of them might whisper something as he comes closer. _Don’t think_. The other one, stunned into confusion by an onslaught of feelings, obeys. He doesn’t think, but lets himself be. In the night, it is possible.

The tall boy leans over the other and gently caresses his face. His fingers brush the contour of lips, the line of the jaw, the cheekbones. The other boy parts his lips and invites the kiss, soft at first, then insistent, hungry and consuming. The tongues, playful, dart in each other’s mouth. Their bodies crash together in a fierce embrace. It is a tangle of limbs and fevered skin. The tall boy bites the other’s shoulder unable to contain the fire and the broken boy buries his face in the other’s neck, unable to contemplate a more ferocious joy.

_Don't think._

Now one of them pulls the other one’s boxers. Now one of them takes the other in his mouth. Now one of them tastes every inch of the other. Now they are one being, impossible to tell apart or tear apart.

_Don't think._

The broken boy pushes the other on the mattress; rubs a hand over the other's shaved head, traces the inked back, pushes a finger inside him. Their breathing becomes tortuous. Gasping, moaning, throbbing, searing deliriousness burns them both to ashes.

They don’t speak as, sweaty and breathless, they lie on the bed. Curled into each other like birds in a nest; the experience becoming already a fragile and indelible memory. It hangs above them like a personal moon. It is night and in the night you can be someone else.

The tall boy slides back to the floor. The night has been kind; he is not so sure about the day. The broken boy wordlessly reaches a hand, but doesn’t invite him back. Their palms touch. They fall asleep.

In the morning, they are not someone else. They are Ronan and Adam. They don’t mention the night, but it hangs heavy in their eyes and thoughts. Adam needs to process things. He needs his time. Ronan understands. He doesn’t push. He has carried the secret for enough time to know that it takes time to get used to the weight. They both know that he will be back tonight and the next night. Eventually they will be strong enough to face the day.

It starts like this: two boys are lying next to each other and a secret binds them together.


End file.
